


Safe

by lilrenthefox



Category: Justified
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilrenthefox/pseuds/lilrenthefox
Summary: Raylan is assigned to guard a witness in a high-profile case at a safe house.  Liz witnessed a horrific murder and is terrified of her bodyguard.  Can Raylan help prepare her to testify against the man he's been chasing for months?
Relationships: Raylan Givens/Original Female Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Safehouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HardsteadEMS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardsteadEMS/gifts).



Chapter 1: Safehouse

Raylan cleared the house, Tim close behind him. The vest’s straps rubbed at his shoulders through his t-shirt. He hated wearing the damned thing, but this was a high profile case. Rachel had the witness outside being tended to by EMT’s while he and Tim secured the area. Movement to his left, he whirled his gun towards it. A man jumped out of the window and Raylan called to Tim, “Gotta runner!”  
Tim sprinted out the front door and onto the lawn to cut him off while Raylan followed him through the window. Raylan holstered his sidearm, confident he could catch the assailant without killing him. The man must have sensed Raylan gaining on him, he turned on his heel and caught Raylan in the gut with a fist. Tim lined up a shot, patiently waiting for Raylan to get out of the way so he could take down his target if needed. Raylan was ready for the hit and only stumbled for a moment, he returned fire with a mean right that sent the man sprawling.  
As the man writhed on the grass, Raylan reached behind his back to grab a set of cuffs. “You have the right to remain silent,” he started. “Anything you say can and will be…” somewhere distantly he heard Tim scream his name. Time slowed down, the edges of his vision blacked as the world wavered beneath his feet. He stopped short as he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun knowing he couldn’t get out of the way and his sidearm was too far away from his hand to pull quickly.  
He lunged, pulling one of his shoulders back to give less body mass for the man to hit. Bullets cut through the air and Raylan saw red. He drove his knee into the man’s chest and began hitting him, adrenaline taking over as Tim helped him flip the man onto his stomach and cuff him.  
“Shit, y’okay?” Tim let the other deputies finish detaining the man as he checked his partner over.  
“What happened?” Raylan blinked, disoriented, and then the pain hit as his fight or flight crashed.  
“Y’got hit,” Tim’s time overseas kicked in. “Lemme see,” he sat Raylan on the ground.  
“I’m fine,” Raylan said flustered.  
“Shut up and lemme see,” Tim snapped a bit harsher than he meant to. He unfastened the bulletproof vest and pulled it away from Raylan’s chest. Raylan winced, face flushing with embarrassment.  
“Hit my vest,” he shook his head. “I’m fine.”  
“You’re bleedin’,” Tim unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the fabric away from his shoulder. “Just grazed you, you lucky sonuvabitch.”  
“What?” Raylan inspected his shoulder. A small cut right above his bicep trickled blood down his arm. “I shoulda—“  
“You’re gonna get looked at, then go home and get some rest,” Art extended a hand to help him up.  
“Gotta job to do, boss,” Raylan rolled his eyes.  
“Other bullet hit the vest,” Tim was still examining him.  
“I’m fine,” Raylan reached for his Stetson and settled it on his head. “Few stitches and I’ll be good as new.”  
“Raylan,” Art’s tone was stern.  
“I’ve been chasin’ this asshole for months,” Raylan whined.  
“You’re on guard duty then,” Art sighed, sometimes there was no arguing with him.  
“You’re sendin’ me to the prison?” Raylan raised an eyebrow as he let Art help him to his feet.  
“No, sending you with her,” he gestured toward a slender woman, she had her arms wrapped around one of Rachel’s and looked terrified.  
“Goin’ to the safe house then?” Raylan frowned.  
“Somethin’ like that,” Art tried to measure his expression. “You keep her safe until she can put your guy away.”  
“Left shoulder’s the one that’s hit,” Raylan nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”  
“You’re gonna get looked at first,” Tim was insistent. “At least get that stitched up,” he saw the look of protest on his partner’s face and added sternly, “and you’re not gonna argue or give me any shit about it or I’ll have Art send you to the ER in that bus over there.”  
Raylan sighed and Tim knew they’d won. Raylan’s cool demeanor returned and he resumed his casual stride as he headed for the ambulance. “Gotta spare shirt in the trunk,” he said over her shoulder to Tim.  
“I live and breathe to do your bidding,” Tim replied sarcastically. “All I need is a tuxedo and a pay raise.”  
“Think you’re funny, don’tcha?” Raylan shot back. He had to admit his shoulder was starting to throb.  
“This is Liz,” Rachel introduced him as he sat on the back of the ambulance. “She’s our only eyewitness to what happened the other night, details are in the file,” she set a manilla folder beside him. “You’ll take her to the safe house until the trial…”  
“You’re not coming with me?” Liz asked timidly.  
“No, I’m needed at the office. Besides, Raylan here’s a better shot and we can’t have him out in the field right now with an injury.” Rachel must have seen the fear in the girl’s eyes, because she added, “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”  
Liz didn’t let go of Rachel until the paramedics had Raylan sutured and bandaged and he’d slid behind the wheel of his town car. He had refused pain medication so he could drive, taking a bottle with him at the insistence of Art and Tim who had pointed out that this safe house was so far out the likelihood of anyone finding them was astronomical. They’d given him strict orders to take one of the pills when they’d gotten there safely. Usually Art didn’t condone his deputies taking any medications on the clock, but Raylan was a dead shot marksman and, like Tim, he didn’t miss.  
Liz’s eyes pleaded with Rachel, “I’d just feel better if you—hell, any female deputy would be with me.” She glanced at the car, not wanting to offend her bodyguard but still wanting to see if she could somehow avoid being alone with him.  
“I’m afraid this comes from my boss,” Rachel hugged her. “You’ll be all right, I promise.”  
“I’ve heard that before,” Liz thought to herself. She crawled into the backseat with her overnight bag.  
“Seatbelt on?” Raylan asked without turning around.  
“Yeah,” she pushed her glasses up on her nose and hugged her knees.  
The drive was long and silent, Raylan shifting uncomfortably in the front seat. Liz noticed the knuckles on his right hand were busted and bloody, a pang of guilt ran through her. No one had ever gotten in a fight over her before. Well, there was that one combative patient she’d gone to pick up; but her partner had worked with her for years and it didn’t feel the same.  
“Y’wanna tell me a little about yourself?” Raylan asked.  
“Name’s Liz,” she said timidly.  
“Raylan Givens. Pleasure to meet you, miss. What do you do for a livin’?”  
“I work as an EMT,” she said quietly, half wishing he’d stop talking and drivel  
“Saw a bad guy do some bad stuff, huh?” Raylan pressed a little.  
“He—he killed a man,” her body shuddered as she remembered the murder she’d witnessed just two nights ago.  
“That’s rough,” Raylan said. “Seen my share of that kinda stuff. Safe house isn’t far now, it isn’t the Hilton but it’s comfortable enough.”  
Liz buried her face into folded arms and tried not to cry. How had her life gone from normal to chaotic? Three days ago she’d responded to a call and ended up being the only eyewitness to a murder. She ran a hand through sandy blonde hair and looked out the window. Raylan must have sensed she was finished talking, he stopped trying and let her sit in silence until they got to the safe house.


	2. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoping my new friend is satisfied with the way I've written her OC.
> 
> Raylan and Liz settle in.

“Y’know how to use one of these?” Raylan offered Liz a gun once they’d gotten settled.  
“I’ve seen one before,” she smirked.  
Raylan stretched out on the couch, favoring his left arm a bit. “Go on and settle in, you get the bedroom.”  
“There’s only one?” her breath caught in her throat.  
“Don’t worry, I’ve slept on worse,” he patted the couch cushion. “This one’s actually not bad.”  
“I didn’t realize there would only be—“ she shook her head.  
“No worries, I’ll be here if y’need me. Hopefully I won’t have to use my skills while we’re here,” he put his hat on the coffee table.  
“Yeah, hope so too,” she tucked her hair behind her ear, suddenly very aware she was alone with a strange man.  
“Fridge is supposed to be fully stocked,” Raylan flexed his fingers, gritting his teeth against the pain that shot down his arm.  
“You should take something for that,” she said, awkwardly folding her arms across her chest.  
“Don’t like takin’ that stuff,” he shook his head.  
“Doesn’t it hurt?”  
“Stings a bit,” he cleared his throat to mask the crack in his voice. “Been through worse.”  
Liz was curious but didn’t want to ask yet, “Didn’t your boss tell you to—I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”  
“It’s all right,” Raylan smiled lazily. “Make yourself comfortable, I won’t bother you. I know you’ve had a rough day.”  
Liz grabbed her bag and headed to the bedroom. She closed the door behind her and slid down the wall. She locked the door with a shaking hand as she headed into the shower.  
Raylan rubbed his forearm to try and numb the spreading ache. He’d been shot before, sure; but it never got easier. His adrenaline was gone, no imminent threats to deal with, and he was left to deal with the throbbing in his arm. He heard water running, Liz was settling in. As much as he wanted a shower himself, he didn’t want water hitting that cut yet for fear he’d grab that bottle of pain killers and throw a few back. He had to stay sharp, still on the clock after all.  
Raylan had all but passed out when Liz came down the hallway. “I can cook somethin’ if you’d…” she started. Raylan jumped at her voice, grinding his teeth and growling as his arm flexed painfully. “I didn’t mean to—“ Liz went to his side out of instinct, her EMT training kicking in. “Stay still, let me see.”  
“Still stings,” Raylan grouched. “I’ll sleep it off.”  
“No, you’ll take your pain meds,” Liz grabbed the bottle from the kitchen counter and returned to his side with a bottle of water.  
“No offense, miss, but I’m on the clock and I can’t so much as pour myself a glass of whiskey.”  
“Shut up and take the damn pill,” Liz surprised herself at the sternness of her tone. Raylan blinked and stared at her, obviously not accustomed to taking orders from anyone other than his boss. Eventually he gave in and swallowed one of the pills from the bottle. “I don’t think I told you thank you,” she said, retreating to the recliner next to the couch.  
“Hmmm?” Raylan eyed her.  
“For takin’ down that man in my house,” Liz hugged her knees.  
“Just doin’ my job, miss,” Raylan repositioned on the couch to take weight off his aching arm. “Sorry Rachel wasn’t available to come babysit.” He kicked himself as soon as the words left his lips, the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like he didn’t want to be here. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I—“ he sat up to clear his head and try to make amends. Liz jumped, moving away from him. “You afraid of me, darlin’?” This was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to.  
“No,” Liz said too quickly.  
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he leaned back slowly.  
“Heard that before,” she said quietly, tension still visible in her shoulders.  
“Besides, I’m drugged to the gills,” Raylan drawled. “Couldn’t do you any harm in this state.” They both knew it was a lie, Raylan was trained and trained well.  
“I feel bad you sleepin’ on the couch hurt,” Liz admitted.  
“Like I said, I’ve slept on worse,” Raylan said. “There’s only one bed and the lady should get it.”  
“I’m sorry,” she stammered.  
“You’ve seen some messed up stuff. Nothin’ t’be sorry for.” He added softly, “I know what that’s like.”  
Liz crossed her legs indian style in the recliner, “I didn’t mean to—“  
“I get it,” Raylan interrupted her. “I’m a stranger, but you’ll have to trust me here.”  
“I’ve been so scared ever since…” she felt stupid. Her voice trailing off and betraying her as she remembered trying to save someone she knew was beyond saving while the murderer stood by laughing.  
“Y’don’t have t’talk about it if you don’t want to,” Raylan’s words drawled as the sedatives kicked in. “Although I’m supposed to help you prep for court. We got some time though.”  
“Does it still hurt?”  
“My arm?” She nodded. “No, darlin’,” he sat up, slowly this time. “I’ve been shot before.” He raised his shirt and she recoiled. “Easy there, Liz. I’m high as a sky-diving meth-head right now, remember?”  
“Sorry, old habits,” she stammered. Why was she apologizing so much? She kicked herself as she swore not to be so damned awkward again.  
“I know you’re workin’ through a lot. I’m here if y’wanna talk,” Raylan rolled his neck and almost fell off the couch. He put his injured arm out to catch himself and groaned.  
Liz knelt beside him like she would any other patient, steadying him. “You should get some sleep.”  
“Don’t really have a choice at this point,” his eyes fluttered as she leaned him back onto the couch. She left his side and he closed his eyes, surprised when she came back with a pillow to slide beneath his neck. “Thank you,” he murmured.  
“You’re welcome,” she covered him up with one of the blankets from the bedroom before heading back to it. She locked the door behind her and crawled beneath the sheets.


	3. Chapter 3

“We gotta talk,” Raylan said between bites of eggs.  
Liz swallowed hard, “Huh?”  
“Y’can’t be lockin’ the door so I can’t get to you,” Raylan said before he realized he’d worded that all wrong. “My job’s to keep you safe, can’t do that if I can’t get to the bad guy.”  
“M’sorry,” Liz mumbled.  
“I promise I’m not gonna come in without knockin’. Mama taught me better than that, I’m house trained too.”  
Liz couldn’t stifle a laugh and Raylan grinned back at her. Even without makeup, hair spilling onto her shoulders, and in a t-shirt and sweatpants, she was gorgeous. He averted his eyes back to his plate before they lingered for too long and made her uncomfortable again.  
“You said you had to prep me?” Liz started. Raylan almost choked, “For the trial,” she added.  
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and sipped his orange juice. “Lawyers are scumbags, this guy’s no different. He’s gonna do anything and everything he can to make you look unreliable.”  
“I saw that man murder someone,” Liz bit her lip.  
“Bet that wasn’t fun,” Raylan said.  
“Guy was begging,” her eyes glazed.  
“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Raylan tried his hand at comfort. “You want somethin’ to eat? I’m not a chef, but I’ve been told my eggs are edible and it’s pretty difficult to screw up toast.”  
“I haven’t been able to eat since…”  
“You should try,” Raylan did his best not to look at her so she didn’t feel like he was fussing.  
“You’re right,” she fixed a plate and sat across from him.  
“Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” he asked.  
“You’re doin’ fine,” she took a bite. “Wow, these are really good!”  
“Thank you,” he smiled.  
“How’s your arm?”  
“Better,” Raylan nodded. “Sore, but I expected that.”  
“You’ve been shot before,” it was a questioning statement.  
“Yes ma’am, this’ll make three times. First time bullet hit my vest, broke three ribs and put a crack in my sternum. Second time I wasn’t wearin’ a vest, caught me here,” he gestured. “You’re an EMT, I’m surprised we haven’t met yet.”  
“I work in Lexington, rarely ever make it to Harlan as it’s so small.”  
“Yeah, my hometown’s not on many maps,” Raylan finished his food and washed his plate in the sink. “That prosecutor’s gonna ask you a lotta shit, I don’t wanna rush you but when you’re ready I can start helpin’ you get ready.”  
“I’d like to get it over with,” Liz said shyly. She had to admit the cowboy was good-looking, strong jawlines were always something she’d favored and he had the lean build to go with it. His shirt outlined the muscles in his back as he cleaned up the kitchen. When he was finished he returned to the couch, “I’m just a witness though, no one’s gonna really care what I have to say.”  
“Not true,” Raylan squirmed in an attempt to find a position that didn’t make his arm yell at him. “I hate t’ask, but could you take a look at this and make sure it’s not infected? It hurts like hell.”  
Liz tightened her lips into a thin line, but obliged him. Raylan peeled his shirt off gingerly. Lean muscles flexed as his breathing picked up. Liz pulled the bandage off gently, the edges of the wound had turned red and started spreading small tendrils of infection outwards. “Yikes,” she muttered as she got up to grab the first aid kit.  
“I can’t see it,” Raylan ran his hand through his hair.  
“It’s getting infected,” Liz washed her hands in the sink before returning to him. She cleaned the wound out, Raylan ground his teeth so he wouldn’t growl but couldn’t stop himself from jumping when she’d put something on his shoulder that stung. Liz recoiled, fists clenched, eyes hardened.  
“Whoa, whoa,” Raylan put his hands up defensively. “I’m not gonna hurt you. That stung’s all.”  
Liz visibly forced herself to return to cleaning and bandaging his shoulder. “I’ve had some bad experiences. Combative patients don’t give much warning.”  
“I promise I don’t bite,” Raylan leaned his head back.  
She finished, eyes scanning down his side to the scar where he’d been shot. “What happened?”  
“Went lookin’ for trouble and found it,” Raylan sighed.  
“Sounds familiar,” Liz rolled her eyes.  
“I notice you’re awful jumpy around me,” he chose his words carefully. “Were you assaulted?”  
“No,” Liz couldn’t meet his gaze, “but he told me he was gonna kill me.” Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to fall.  
“I’m gonna keep you safe,” he promised. “I haven’t failed at babysittin’, not even once.” He wanted more than anything to reach for her, but was afraid he’d frighten her. Instead, he put a hand on her shoulder, she jerked away from him. “Thank you for cleanin’ me up.” He withdrew his hand, setting it back in his lap.  
Liz left the room quickly, why had she pulled away from him? Didn’t she want to curl up in those arms and let him comfort her? She sat on the bed, hugging her pillow to muffle the sound of her crying. She didn’t hear Raylan’s footsteps until he knocked on the door, “Liz, can I come in?”  
“Yeah,” she sniffled, terrified of trusting someone after the last few days’ events.  
“Darlin’, I don’t like seein’ beautiful women cry,” Raylan kept his distance at first. “Anything I can do?”  
Liz got up and threw herself into his arms, “I’ve been so scared.”  
Raylan rocked back on his heels to catch his balance before gently wrapping his arms around her. “Y’don’t have t’be anymore.”  
“But after trial you’re just gonna leave like everyone else,” Liz buried her face into his chest.  
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Raylan held her close and ran his fingers through her hair.  
“You’re on duty,” Liz said miserably. “Once the job is over you’ll go back to work and never think about me again.”  
“Not true,” Raylan kissed her forehead. “I really like you, it’s your winnin’ attitude. Seriously though, I’m a damaged man and I’ve been through a lot. Maybe we’d be good for each other.” He led her back to the bed and stretched out beside her. “I won’t do anything you don’t give me permission to.”  
Liz curled up beside him, laying her head on his chest. “Y’mean all that?”  
“Cross my heart,” Raylan smiled and wrapped his uninjured arm around her. She propped up on her elbow so she could look at him. Hazel eyes stared back at her with pain behind them, pain she couldn’t heal but could relate to. She leaned in slowly and their lips met. Raylan rolled to his side and ran his fingers through her hair as she snaked an arm behind his back.  
When they broke she traced the scar the bullet had left behind. “Does it still hurt?”  
“Sometimes,” Raylan admitted. “But I’m bettin’ you could fix me up.”  
“I’d sure like to try,” Liz nuzzled his nose with her own. “I’m glad I got you as a bodyguard.”  
“Me too,” Raylan smiled warmly. “Me too.”


End file.
